2007-03-17: Unlucky Few


Bekah_icon.gif Richard_icon.gif Niki_icon.gif Rianna_icon.gif Hiro_icon.gif Randall_icon.gif Aletheia_icon.gif Leroy_icon.gif

Summary: The luck of the Irish is not with everyone tonight. Several people come across a violent scene amidst the St. Patrick's Day festivities, and each one has a different way of dealing with it. (To say the least.)

Date It Happened: March 17, 2007

Unlucky Few

Midtown, New York

Saint Patrick's Day. Probably the most universal night, apart from New Year's Eve, for everyone to get drunk. Oh, indeed, are they DRUNK. The smell of whiskey, ale, alcohol, beer- it hangs heavy around the crowds, and fights have been breaking out all night, meaning the police has upped undercover operatives, and also patrols around the neighboorhoods- so that they can stop anything and everything going on.

However, it seems like something has stopped them from doing what their doing tonight- at the corner of Fifth Ave. and James St., in the so-called 'palace district' has a fight broken out. And from the noises, it's loud, ugly, and developing quickly- and there's no one to stop it. The metallic stench of blood fills the air. What's going to happen, tonight, of all nights?

Bekah is out and about through the crowd. She's actually dressed decently, though still in jeans, going with the general theme of the night of green. Bekah has her cell phone to her ear as she strides down the street. "Yeah, I was so happy to have tonight off. St. Patrick's day in the ER sucks. So many drunks doing so many stupid things." She says with a roll of her eyes, even though it's invisible to the person on the other end. "I'll meet up with you in fifteen or so then. Save me some green beer." She closes the phone right before she gets to the corner, and lets out a nice array of curse words as the smell of blood hits her, taking a look to see what in the world is going on.

Leroy is not drunk, quite the opposite really he's talking on his cell phone as he saunters along quickly, one arm curled around a paper bag filled with necessities. You know, Bootleg Kylie Single CD. Oprah magazine. Poptarts. Necessities. He slows down though where he's going 'unhunh, right, yea hunh, oh honey no…no those jeans don't make your butt look big' in that fake as heck for people that know him baritone and smooth southern accent. He slows to a stop though, tensing as he hears familiar sounds. "…oh hell no. I think I saw this movie. Leo?" He looks around. "Where you at boy?"

"Ohhh… what shall we do with a drun'ken sailor, what shall we do with a drun'ken sailor, what shall we do with a drun'ken say-lor, ear-lie in tha' mor-nin'…" It's with loud, cheerful, and terribly off-tune singing that Richard makes his way out from a none-too-reputable pub and half-stumbles on a step on his way out— raising a hand in a cheerful salute to a few other people passing by, fingers sliding back over his shaven scalp to rub against the nape of his neck as he walks along down the street, continuing his song. He knows all the verses. He may even be making up some of his own. At the shouts of pain and sound of fighting, though, as he turns the corner, he pauses— song dying, lips pursing tightly as he cranes his neck to try and get a view of what's going on. He may be just a -little- exposed right now, where he's standing.

It's a late night for Rianna working in the Foundation Building, and indeed, the loud and raucous festivities have not escaped her attention. She looks over at the clock on her desk and, seeing how late it is, drops a pen on her desk and leans back in her leather chair, sighing as she takes off her reading glasses. She stands up after a moment and looks out of the window, deciding to call it a night. She smiles at the evening guard as she goes down through the lobby of the Foundation Building and into the garage where her black Lexus awaited. She climbs into the car and leaves the underground parking lot, heading towards Fifth Avenue at a slow pace.

If it's true that no one really /needs/ to drive in New York what with all the public transportation, it makes sense that Niki is without wheels. With some minor running around to do this evening, none of which has the slightest thing to do with the St. Patrick's Day celebrations that are sweeping the streets (at least those which house pubs), the blonde woman saunters down one of the midtown streets carrying a few shopping bags, unaware of what she might be heading toward. In a wintry vest with a faux-fur lined hood and long-sleeved shirt underneath, and a pair of dark jeans, she's not even sporting a hint of green. She's distracted from the crowds, just trying to mind her own business and avoid the drunks - but as she comes up toward that corner of Fifth Avenue and James, her eyes adopt a narrowed, concerned slant. Something's not right.

Right. It's St. Patrick's Day. Aletheia vaguely remembers hearing that in passing at work. Needless to say, she didn't exactly care about the holiday. She still doesn't. The woman just regards the fracas down the street with faint - very faint - scorn. Mostly, it's annoyance. She's going home, and this is /nowhere/ in her job description. Green eyes flick over the sides of the street as Aletheia slows. Time for Plan B…

Hiro Nakamura doesn't have any allies.

He doesn't have a plan to save the world.

He doesn't even have a *sword*.

Some hero he's been, lately. While the city is drinking itself silly, Hiro is on foot, sort of tooling along and getting his lay of the land. He's in theory walking home, but rather than just teleport there, why not get to see the nooks and crannies in between? It could come in handy, very soon. "<What the…?>" he says, to himself, in Japanese, stopping short as he inhales. He's smelled this before. "<Blood? Oh, great!>" Hiro sounds nonplussed. Well, this is how it works for Spider-Man, anyways. Hiro starts running in the direction of danger. Why wouldn't that be precisely what he do? He's a hero. Kind of.

Altheia. Hiro. Rianna. Niki. Bekah. Richard. Leroy. As of a few minutes ago, you are now all heroes. What does that mean to you? You might be walking. You might be talking. You might be drunk. You might be emo, sword-less, and un-allied. You might be driving. But you all have one similar thing. The need to help. The drive for it… and it's going to ruin the rest of your evening.

The smell still hangs sour and heavy, however, the softest scent of blueberry can be smelled over it. Then, through the fighting noises, through the punches and such, a woman's piteous screams can be heard. There's a man's laughter. As of now, they are still invisible. However, approach more, and it shall be revealed, even as that thick, meaty sound silences those shouts of pain- and the soft, evocative, promises that the man is promising his captive.

Bekah moves towards the sounds as well. It might be stupid to be heading towards the fight, but she can't resist. Her phone is tucked in the front pocket of her jeans as she looks around for the source of the blood and pain. She's keeping an eye on the drunk crowd as well. She may move towards trouble, but she's not running into the midst of it unaware.

"I'm sorry Sherrilicious, I gots to go…" Leroy sighs and gets off the phone, slipping the glittery phone into his man bag and adjusting his hold on his grocery bag as his eyes follow Hiro. His eyes widen in quiet panic as he quickly looks both ways and follows. "Oh my WORD, little man! Darlin'! Sweet pea?" The clothing! IT BURNS! IT STINGS! If he's going to be a hero…it's purely accidental. "Yoohoo!" He stops and sniffs the air thoughtfully and he sighs, speed walking. You know that walk where the hips sway and it looks like you might have to pee with your free arm swinging? It's that.

Oh, well, now that totally harshes Richard's mellow.

The cheerful singing fades into a scowl as the sounds become more audible, and the man - instead of turning the corner - ducks into a shallow, shadow-cast doorway along the street he's walking along. Of course, he doesn't come -out- of it again, given that after he's ducked within, he's not there anymore. Maybe the door was open enough for him to slip in, or something? While anyone who happened to be gazing at the quasi-drunken fellow puzzles over that, the essence of his being flows effortlessly from shadow to shadow like a man jumping stones on the mirror image of the world, seen only as a brief darkening of shadow-patches here and there. To investigate the sounds and threats, he goes…

Hiro isn't wasting any time. He's literally running headlong towards the sound of whatever's going on. Why? Well, there's one name on his mind: Sylar. And here he is, without his sword. Rather than vast his energy while he's running, he instead starts yelling as he sprints as fast as he can. Which isn't all that fast, really. "Hey! You! Stop!" Stop what? Well, who knows.

The drive is pretty eventful. Rianna's attention is way too focused on not hitting the many inebriated partiers to really listen in on anyone's thoughts in particular, but once she gets close to the scene of the huge fight, she's forced to stop by one of the police officers on hand to quell the fighting. After being recommended to turn around and take the long way around the scene, she begrudgingly turns around and is about to pull away when the sensations of sadistic pleasure along with the inner turmoil of the victim are caught. Much like that sound that catches your attention even through all the noise around it. She pulls her Lexus over and gets out of the car. Her long coat hides a small pistol concealed at her waist on the right hip. She begins to make her way towards the feeling, trying very hard to filter out the insanity going on around her.

Blood in the air is something Niki wishes she didn't recognize instantly as familiar. Her stomach twists. By now, her purposeful steps, which had so intended to go /home/, have slowed to a complete stop. But as she takes in the sights and sounds - mostly the sounds, and then there's the unnerving smell of freshly spilled blood - she starts to move again, winding around various strangers on the street in order to get closer. But … not too close. Not very close at all, in fact. She's not as stealthy as shadows are. Watching as she heads past a closed storefront and reaches for her cell phone and sees a harmless-looking Japanese man rushing into the fray, however, Niki hesitates and— "…Damnit." This rushing into danger thing is starting to become an unexpected habit. One that she'd rather avoid, but heeled boots rush her into sight.

If she takes that street instead… but Aletheia keeps walking forward. Why? No reason she could explain. Nothing that makes any sense, even to her. Especially to her. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be the only one. Thea drifts over in the direction of Bekah, on the theory that walking in alone is not really a wise idea. She settles her shoulderbag more securely, gaze flickering across the crowd, intent and calculating, assessing the situation.

Those promises continue for a few seconds, even as everyone in the group heads their way towards the sounds. There's those few, sickening noises again, then a long pauses.

Man 1: "Hey… D?"
Man 2: Dude, I don't think she's breathing.
Man 3: She's dead!
Man 1: Oh shit.
Man 2: Run!

The three indeed run, however, for that lifeless body that lays on the ground, it's all over… she will never be a hero like these people have the chance to be. Those blue eyes have glassed over, the huge pool of blood on the ground, the many bruises on her body… it will never be the same.

But now, I leave you. Waste precious seconds? Go after the men? The choice is up to you… but there is one thing that is clear. Life will never be the same. Not for the Heroes. And Heroes you all are, indeed.

Bekah wastes the second. The minute that she sees the woman go down she rushed forward. Who carries gloves in their purse? Other than Bekah that is. She does have a pair in there. Or maybe a couple. Never know when they'll come in handy even on a night out. She has one fished out and snapped on quickly as she squats down, to keep from getting her jeans bloody. She's checking for vital signs, breathing and heartbeat, cursing as she does so. "Someone call 911! We need the police!"

Leroy works on catching up to the group, in time to see people run and what not, everything fades to the back-ground as he focusses on catching his breath. Speed-walking is hard work. Then he sees the tragedy before him and sets his bag aside, frowning and moving quickly towards Bekah and the woman, squinting and kneeling down some as he tugs his phone out of his pocket, sobering up really quickly and dialing 911. "Hello? Is this 911? - Annie? Is that you?! How you doing baby! Whatever, listen, this be an emergency…no not the thing yesterday with the roac-I do not scream like a woman…" He stares at the woman again, sadness on his dark features. "Listen baby, there's this woman…" And so details will be shared.

It may be only the squatting Bekah, of those who rushed over, who hear a quietly whispered - faintly hollow, echoing - exhalation of a single word from the shadows nearby the body. "…damn."

Rianna is coming up just as Bekah is kneeling down with the woman, and the call for someone to call 911 happens just as Rianna is pulling out her cell phone. After a moment, "Dispatch. This is Councilwoman Johannsen. I'm near the corner of Fifth Avenue and James. *pause* A young woman has been attacked. Okay. You've been called? Police are on the scene already. We need an ambulance.", she says, closing the cell phone and moving near to the woman. She kneels down near Bekah, saying softly as to not startle the woman, "Are you a doctor, Miss?".

For the man who has all the time in the world, Hiro wastes every second. As he runs up on the body, he falls to his knees and yells out. "Somebody help!" Not that it'll do anybody any good, at that point. Hiro is beside Bekah as he drops beside the body, and he does something… odd. He clutches his eyes shut, and his whole head shakes. Nothing happens. "I can't go back," Hiro says, looking at Bekah. "I can take her to the hospital right away—"

Rianna looks up at Hiro. "Nakamura-san. It probably wouldn't be wise to do that in front of all of these bystanders.", she says quietly.
Bekah looks up to Hiro for a just a second, seeming to believe him without question. Then her gaze goes back to the woman. She doesn't even start CPR just lets out a deep breath after resting her hand on the woman's chest. "It's too late. She'd dead. They won't be able to do anything." She's fairly calm for that proclamation, but she sounds very certain in it. "I can start CPR, but it won't help." It's only then that she answers Rianna. "Yes, I am. I'm an attending in the emergency department at Mount Sinai." So maybe that's how she knows what she's talking about. Maybe.

Niki is rushing into the scene just as the men scatter away from the woman on the ground. The body on the ground. Dropping her shopping bags, the blonde drops into a crouch beside the bloodied woman, stepping in blood, no doubt; her eyes pierce the streetlight-lit darkness after the men. She can hear others calling 911 around her and, sombre though she is over what she's walked into, she stands and starts to back away. She'd rather not be caught near a dead body today, she thinks— then her attention catches on Hiro. He looks… vaguely familiar.

The men bail - and rightfully so, as Thea closes the distance in Bekah's wake. Not quite so quickly, because she's pretty sure of what the other doctor will find. Why they ran. Knowing she has no chance to catch them, Aletheia wastes a second as well, noting every feature of the trio that she can make out. Then she kneels opposite Bekah, restraining the impulse to perform the same checks. She was never an ER doctor, and may be administration now, but some habits remain. Her question to Bekah is forestalled, and Thea nods. Hiro's declaration, combined with Rianna's quiet words, earns him a brief glance - but Aletheia can't be said to really care.

Hiro looks straight up at Rianna, and his eyes are slightly wide. "It doesn't matter if it can save her!" he begins, but his protests fall short when the body is confirmed deceased. "… I guess I was too late. And now I can't go back." Time - 3, Hiro - 1. Running score.

Leroy's eyebrow raises as he is busy on the phone with the dispatchers, glancing over to Rianna to give her a quick once over and flash her the thumbs up before blinks at Hiro and raising an eyebrow slowly. "…baby are you okay?" That…can't be natural. He's a very concerned citizen. "Is she…?" He asks softly, with some trepidation. "The popos and doctor like types are supposed to be here soon." Her declaration though as tears welling in his eyes. "Poor baby…"

Rianna looks up at Aletheia as she approaches before she backs away herself, her face revealing the fact that the sight of the body is making her nauseous. She shakes it off, saying quietly, "I'll go get a police officer, I think…". When she goes off in the direction of the crowd, it's noticeable that she makes a pit stop to vomit before she makes it over to where the police cars are.

Bekah looks over to Hiro for a moment then shakes her head. "The time wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. I could have started to help her right here. Did anyone get a look at the men who did this?" She asks shifting back away from the body. She peels the gloves off, wrapping them so one is iside the other, the blood all kept inside. "We were all too late for her."

"I did," murmurs a voice; hollow, somewhat echoing, faint, and altogether disembodied, "A bit of one, anyhow… a rather scruffy scarecrow of a black fellow, and a pair of rather -surprisingly- eloquent and well-dressed white men, all of them older than their teens, though younger than middle… oh, fuck, I'm talking out loud."

Niki can't help but eye the body of the battered woman, emotion flickering across her face as she steels herself against the sight, even though she's seen much, much worse. Her glance to the others is a distraction, and this time, it's Aletheia that makes her stare for a moment. Recognition. But she says nothing. Instead, it's the Japanese man who gets her words, and once they come, they're wary and … unsure, almost. "You were at Kirby Plaza," she says quietly. And it's true in several instances, but Niki doesn't know that. The voice from the shadows swings her head about sharply. Only… she doesn't see anyone.

Aletheia did, but she doesn't admit it. She just shakes her head slowly, standing back up. Meeting Niki's gaze, the woman's lips quirk to one side - a faint smile. Richard's voice also distracts Thea, the smile shifting to more of a smirk, if still faint. Still saying nothing, Aletheia turns away from the scene and resumes walking. There's nothing she can do here; thus, there's no reason to stay.

Hiro looks up and there's… Niki. Rianna is gone, which is probably, really, all for the best, but as she recognizes him — and is recognized, in turn — Hiro's face bursts into a bit of a smile. "You fought Sylar! You are one of the heroes." It's a tiny smile. There's still a dead body here.

Leroy is just a sober spectator. He looks fabulous, Niki has nice boots, Hiro needs his help (only reason he's here…duh), he's hearing voices and there are other folks around too he doesn't know. He fans himself with one hand and takes off his hat, holding it to his chest. "I think I knew her…" He clears his throat…and softly sings. "After love…No matter how hard I try, You keep pushing me aside, And I can't break through, There's no talking to you, So sad that you're leaving, Takes time to believe it, But after all is said and done, You're going to be the lonely one, Ohh Oh…" He does his best Black Man Gospel Singer Meets Cher impression. "Do yoooou believe in life after love…" It's a very solemn moment.

Bekah turns to look and see who Hiro is talking to, then tilts her head around looking for the man who said he saw them. "I haven't even started drinking yet. I can't be imagining things." She mutters to herself before she stands, staying close to the dead body, at least until the police arrive. Leroy gets a look from her as if he might need some serious mental heal before she just shakes her head at that song.

Okay, seriously, that's the third 'you are a hero' Niki's got in no less than a week, and it's not starting to feel any more comfortable. "Just in the right place at the right time," she tells Hiro weakly, returning the smile with a tiny curve of her own lips, but hers too is tiny. "I guess… tonight was the /wrong/ time." Regret twists her features. Blue eyes skirt the periphery of the little crowd that's gathered, hunting out the source of that voice, but no go. "No, there's someone there." But she stops looking, distracted by the singing man. Just pardon her while she stares a little.

Sirens. It may seem like it's been a long time, but in truth, it's been mere minutes. Flashing lights are on their way.

Hiro stares at the body, and then to Niki. This has been a real downer, seeing as how he *started* in a pretty rotten mood. "I… I must go. Please, you must also leave. We must be very careful," he says, with some degree of desperation. He glares into the shadows, before he stands up and starts running off. The doctor and the ambulance will take care of this.

The shadows fail to glare back.
They do, however, mutter faintly, "…what'd /I/ do?"

Leroy bows his head after he finishes singing the chorus and sighs, murmuring softly a quiet prayer before pushing himself up in time to see Hiro run off. "Poor baby." Then Niki get a look, boots pointed to. "Simply a-door-able darlin'." Then he's putting his hat back on and looking back to the body with that sympathy. "Lordy…I suppose we gotta wai-" Shadows get a look. "The hell?" - This has been a very weird night.

Bekah nods to Niki with a look back to the shadows as they mutter. "Oh, right. Glad to know I'm not going crazy after all." She says, rather calm for someone who was just told the shadows are in fact talking. Leroy gets a look that says she's not sure about the lack of craziness in him though before she turns to the policemen as the first one arrives. She fishes in her purse for I.D. "I'm an ER doc at Mount Sinai. This body was dumped here on the corner. It's a recent time of death, but she was definitely quite dead when she was left." Have a happy night with that one, cop.

Randall walks into view, a book tucked under one arm, just in time to overhear the bodiless voice pipe up. Blinking, he turns in that direction and squints into the streetlights beyond, snapping back into the moment only when Bekah speaks up. "Body—" He whirls around and promptly takes a step back, belatedly startled through multiple senses at once, falling quiet so that the authorities can do their thing.

In the midst of it all, Leroy is given a transient blink from Niki - she can't take a fashion compliment at a time like this. Besides, if he looked close enough, he might see that her boots have the dead woman's blood on them. So trendy. Niki is hesitating: she saw the men, fleetingly, but so did /whoever/ is lingering in the shadows. Someone needs to tell the police. Give them a description. And while she hesitates, they arrive. Nervously, the blonde sticks around. "I saw them. Just for a second, before they ran," she tells the police officer Bekah is speaking with. "A bunch of men - three of them, I think - they did this to her."

Leroy looks about ready to fall apart, arm folded over his stomach, one hand resting on his mouth as he officers arrive and he looks over his shades and sighs. "Sweet jesus it was just /awful/." He doesn't have much to offer, just his silent support.

The voice in the shadows doesn't offer any input for the police as they arrive; understandably, perhaps, not wishing to speak up to the Authority. They tend to react badly to mysterious happenings, after all.

Bekah lets Niki take over the description. All she really had to say was the doctor's report. She's dead, Jim. Or whatever the police officer's name is. Leroy gets a roll of her eyes. "Yeah. It's awful for her and whatever family she's god." But not for people who just happen along is the undertone there. Bekah steps out of the way, moving back towards the shadows, and that curiously disembodied voice.

Randall turns back around, scratching at the short hairs at the back of his neck. He's not the authorities; maybe the unseen voices will be willing to talk to him? He takes a few tentative steps toward the darkness, rubbing his eyes before continuing forward.

Niki folds her arms tenuously over her stomach. She eyes the shadows sidelong. Some help you are, mysterious disembodied voice - in fact, the glance she gives that which she cannot see is on the bitter side. But to the police, and true to her nature, she looks incredibly vexed over this whole unlucky scenario - unlucky, mostly, for the woman who fell victim. "Yeah," she says to the police officer when she's prompted, and he takes her name, while other officers try to procure names from the other folks incase they're needed later. Niki, meanwhile, gives her best description of the three men, and probably like everyone, wishes she could go home.

Leroy's attention snaps back to Bekah and he arches an eyebrow. "You keep rollin' your eyes little missy and them eyes gonna get /stuck/. I gotta cousin like that, I ain't lyin'" He sighs and tosses hair he does not have to adjust his shades. "She was a really good woman, I'll give whatever statements I need to in order to bring them wanna be thugs to justice." He promises
"What," the shadowy corner of the alley mutters lowly as people walk back and look their way, hopefully unheard by the police over their chatter and the radios, "Stop lookin' at me. What, am I gonna hand over their description to the cops? 'What's your name, sir?' 'Mysterious incorporeal entity'. 'May I see your ID?'"

Bekah finds a spot to lean against the wall. Hopefully one that's not already taken. "But think about what a police report that would make. It might be worth it just to see them freak out." Bekah says, calm about this, now that she knows she's not the only one hearing the voice. Leroy's comment to her is just plain ignored, giving the man peace to talk to the cops.

Mysterious incorporeal entity aside - and the shadows do earn another confused, fintly narrow-eyed stare, over her shoulder, this time - Niki's just going to offer the authorities all she can, even if that has to mean going in to the station. And it just might.

It might for Leroy too, as they take a special interest in him because of his phrasing: "she was a really good woman." That means he must have known her, right? That automatically links him to the victim. The doctor is not passed over either, and another officer heads her way to inform her that she may be called to give further information. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Randall sits down on the ground and crosses his legs, addressing the shadows directly. It's not that he doesn't care about the body, it's just that he's not comfortable dealing with the thought of it just now. "I'm not looking /at/ you," he explains, "otherwise I'd be able to see you. Looking /through/ you, maybe. Have you been struggling with anorexia for very long?"

"You know," dryly observes the shadows' voice, still quietly, "Talking to walls is one of the first signs of madness. Just ask Doctor Morgan here."

Bekah nods over to the officer. "Any time. You know where to find me." It seems he might be a familar face. And so must be the talking wall. "Is it madness if the wall knows your name?" She asks softly, relaxing back against the brick as they start to work the crime scene, taking photos and such. "There are lots of signs of madness though. All around us."

Randall shakes his head. "I know what mad people are like," he replies to the unseen detractor, "and this isn't it. This is just most people failing to notice something— either they're too busy, or they'd rather rationalize it away. Mostly both. So what /do/ you want to talk about? There must be something, otherwise you could have just kept quiet to begin with."

"I was," notes the voice quietly, "Just describing the guys— and I don't know why I'm talking now, even. Pleasant dreams, kids…"

Bekah pulls her cell phone out of her pocket when it starts to ring. "I'm on my way." She answers after a look at who's calling. "I got little distracted by a dead body. Yeah, even when I'm not at work they just seem to keep appearing." She waves to the wall and to the man sitting there as she starts back down the street towards her destination much earlier that night. "I hope you didn't drink all the beer without me. I could use a good drink now even more than earlier."

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